The Unwilling Aviator (Book 4) (16 page)

One of the guards stepped in front of them and looked over the large group. "Only aviators and squires allowed," he told them.

"This young lady and I are the maintenance crew for this aviator," Ned replied as he gestured with his staff to Pat.

The guard frowned, but stepped aside. "Very well, but don't maintenance anyone else's kite," the guard warned.

At the far end near the stone stood four aviators lined up with the clipboard official in front of them. The group hurried to the line.

The official was reading off names of those in line. "Wobbling?"

"Here," replied one of the aviators.

"Yanking?"

"Here!"

The man paused and squinted his eyes at the last name. "Enburn?" he called out.

"Here!" Fred yelled. He cringed when his real voice sprang from his lips. The magic didn't work on anything inside him, just on the outside.

The official marched over to him and tapped his finger on the clipboard. "How did your name get to the bottom of the list? This is in alphabetical order," he questioned Fred.

Fred shrugged. "Lucky?" he guessed while Ned tried his best to look innocent.

The official frowned, but turned toward the other kites. "Get your machines ready for lift! One at a time now!" he yelled at them, and stalked away to the other officials who stood beside the flags.

Fred dropped the kite and rubbed his aching shoulders. It wasn't easy carrying a stiff tarp. "Now what?" he whispered to Ned.

Ned nodded at the flagged area. "Now you watch and learn."

The first aviator on the list strapped himself to his kite and stood between the two rungs. A young man, his squire, positioned himself in front of the aviator, harnessed himself to the rungs, and lifted the front rung. They pointed the kite at the flagged area in front of their spool while an official secured their line to the rear of their kite. Another official who stood by the edge of the cliff raised his hand and dropped it. The aviator and his squire raced down the plateau dragging their anchor rope behind them. At the edge of the cliff they dove off into the void and disappeared from sight.

Ruth gasped, and Pat and Fred's eyes widened. In the next moment the kite reappeared above the edge with the squire laying over both rungs and the aviator with his legs on either side of the squire's own limbs. They climbed high into the sky above the cliffs and the aviator used the hand holds to sail them to the center of the city. The squire used their weight over the front rung to help guide the aviator.

The official at the edge of the cliff turned and looked over the remaining aviators. "Next!" he barked.

CHAPTER 18

Fred turned on his heels and strode away from the cliff. The crowd pointed and laughed at him. "Enburn is finally sober! He knows he's going to crash!" someone yelled. The laughter grew louder.

Pat grabbed Fred before he got too far. "Where are you going? Your turn is coming next!" she reminded him.

"That's exactly why I'm leaving," he replied.

Pat rolled her eyes and dragged him back. "We need you to win this, so stop being such a coward," she growled.

"But I want to be a live coward," he argued.

"You know there's no other way to destroy the stone. There are too many guards protecting it, and there will be more after your escape," she countered.

One of the aviators waiting in line smirked. "What's wrong, Enburn? Afraid I'll pull you out of the skies before you lift up?" Fred whipped his head to the mocking man and his eyes narrowed. The man frowned. "You got something you want to say to me?"

"You're up, Advesario Zapa," one of the judges called to the man. Advesario scoffed and walked off.

Pat pulled Fred away from the remaining aviators, and Ruth and Ned followed. "He's trying to antagonize you," she told him.

Fred frowned and ran his hand through his hair. "It's working," he grumbled.

"And you certainly chose a worthy adversary," Ned mused. "He happens to be one of the best aviators in the region."

"Lucky me. . ." Fred muttered.

Pat rolled her eyes. "So long as you have Ruth with you then nothing can go wrong," she persisted.

Fred turned to Ruth, who smiled and bowed her head. "I will try my best," she promised.

Ned chuckled and patted Fred on the back. The young man stumbled forward. "Take courage from your friends, my boy, and you'll never be alone."

Fred's eyes widened when he recalled the words of Martley, and how his friends would fail to save him. He opened his mouth to tell Ned what had happened at the Senex, but the official with the clipboard called out his name. "Enburn! It's your turn!" The color drained from Fred's face.

"Now do what the others did and you'll be fine," Ned encouraged him.

"But I wasn't watching them!" Fred yelped.

"Then go with your guts," Ned rephrased.

"If I don't spill them," Fred muttered.

Ned and Pat helped Fred into his straps while Pat helped Ruth with her harness. When they were ready they took their places at the front and back rungs, and together they lifted the kite off the ground and pointed it at the edge of the cliff.

"Phaeton, if you do exist, please help me," Fred whimpered.

Ruth glanced over her shoulder and smiled at him. "Faith, Fred. We will succeed," she told him. There was such a deep confidence in her voice that some of Fred's fear was calmed.

Unfortunately, not all of his fear vanished. The official at the flags gave the signal and Ruth pulled Fred and the kite forward. Fred stumbled along behind her and his heart stopped when they reached the abyss. Ruth propelled herself into the air and Fred let out a terrible, high-pitched scream as they dropped toward the buildings far below them. The front of their kite pointed straight down at the hard ground beneath them, and they plummeted to the earth. The wind whistled past them, and the people below them pointed and screamed.

Ruth set her legs on the back rung and turned to Fred. "Help me pull the front up!" she instructed him.

Fred swallowed his fear and nodded his head. He placed his legs on either side of hers and leaned back. Ruth did the same, and the front of their kite rose so the cloth was level with the ground. The whistling wind blew up into the cloth and snapped them upward. They zoomed past the edge of the cliff and fifty yards above the takeoff point. The kite settled at that altitude and Fred clutched his heart to make sure it hadn't beaten a hole through his chest.

Ruth looked up at him and smiled. "A perfect takeoff for your first time," she complimented him.

"Y-yeah, perfect," he chattered.

Ruth glanced ahead of them at the other aviators. They had positioned themselves over the center of the city and were practicing diving, swooping, and wrapping their anchor lines around those of their foes. "We should join them," she suggested.

Fred looked over the kite. "But how do we steer this thing over there?" he asked her.

"First you feel the wind and capture it beneath the cloth. Then you pull the handles on your left or right to tilt the wings while I lean my weight to help us turn, like this." Ruth closed her eyes and leaned slightly to her left. The kite was pushed to the left by the wind and after two dozen yards Ruth straightened them so they floated in place. "See?"

"Um, yeah, I guess. Let me try it," Fred requested. He closed his eyes and felt the wind blow over them. While there was a near-constant updraft, there were smaller gusts inside the larger wind. He felt one of those smaller gusts that pointed toward the center of the city, and he pulled down on the left-hand handhold and tilted the kite so it caught the wind. The gust pushed them forward and he opened his eyes to see them propel toward the other aviators. "I did it! I did it!" he exclaimed.

"Fred! The rope!" Ruth yelled.

Fred's eyes widened when he noticed they were on a swift collision course with the anchor line of Advesario's kite. He panicked and leaned the kite at an angle. The bottom rungs of their kite brushed against the anchor line. Their own anchor line was dragged across the opposing rope, and their blades tore into that of their adversary. In a few seconds the rope snapped, and Advesario's kite tipped and fell to the ground.

The pair were pushed away by the wind and watched their opponent fall. Advesario and his squire pulled up before they hit the rooftops and used the natural shock absorption in their legs to land on the roof. Advesario tore himself from his harness and pulled back the wing of his kite to glare at Fred and Ruth. Their broken anchor line was quickly hauled in by the strong men so the bladed rope wouldn't fall into the houses and streets.

Fred slumped in his straps. "That was close," he hoarsely whispered.

"Yes, but that is the risk all aviators take when they take to the skies," Ruth told him. She looked up and smiled at him. "You are a natural flier. Otherwise you could not have performed such a beautiful attack."

Fred shakily smiled. "Yeah, natural flier," he murmured.

"I am sure together we will defeat the others and win the honor of approaching the stone," Ruth continued.

"Could we get in a little more practice before we try defeating anyone else?" he pleaded.

She giggled and nodded. "Of course, but I wish to show you something."

Ruth tilted their flier back away from the other aviators and upward so they rose twice as high as the others. They reached the edge of their anchor line and floated in the sky just short of the clouds. They were able to see beyond the cliffs, and the view was spectacular. Birds chirped below and above them, and the wind was a cool breeze that swept over their cheeks. The bright sky stretched into the distance for hundreds of miles. A stretch of blue color dotted the horizon to the east.

"What do you think that is?" Fred wondered.

"The sea. Have you never seen it before?" Ruth asked him.

Fred shook his head. The blue color seemed to stretch on forever. There was a dark spot far off, but he supposed it was an island or a few storm clouds. "No. Do you think it's really as big as it looks?"

She giggled. "And bigger. Perhaps we'll visit it soon. For now shall we practice?"

"Yeah, sure," Fred replied. He broke himself from the view and they tilted downward to practice gliding.

From the cliffs Ned and Pat watched the pair zig and zag through the skies. The initial flight was terrifying to behold, but Ned was all smiles when the pair recovered and separated from the other aviators to practice. "They seem to be quite good," he commented to Pat.

"But this isn't a real fight," she pointed out. "In a real fight there will be dozens more aviators, and all of them trying to bring them down."

"A little more faith, my dear Pat," he scolded her.

She turned to him with a scowl. "Faith doesn't move mountains, nor win a tournament," she argued.

Ned sighed and gave a nod. "Indeed, you're right. Faith is not a guarantee of victory. It is something we give to each other to help fulfill victory. Without faith there is no bond, and without a bond there would not be two of our friends up there flying beautifully together." He looked up at the kite with a soft smile on his face.

Pat frowned, but glanced up at their friends. She sighed and shook her head. "Do you truly believe they will win the tournament?" she quietly asked him.

Ned snorted. "It would take a miracle."

Pat whipped her head to the old castor and glared at him. "But you just said faith-"

"-is a wonderful thing, but always have an alternate plan in case faith fails," he advised her. "In this case, be prepared for a fight over the stone."

Her face drooped and her eyes narrowed. "You are impossible to understand."

Ned leaned on his staff and chuckled. "I try my best."

Pat rolled her eyes and glanced back to her friends. They swooped and circled over the city as swiftly as any bird. She noticed the crowds on the cliffs watched the pair with open interest, and many pointed and whispered.

"Is that Enburn?"

"Yes, but how did he get so good?"

"No idea. You think it's magic?"

"No, the judges would have seen it."

Beside her Pat heard Ned chuckle.

"Who's his squire?"

"I don't know, but he's kind of cute."

Pat frowned and her eyes flitted over to Ned. "I believe your magic is too good," she whispered.

Ned coughed. "Yes, well, it isn't permanent, but let us sit down on one of these rocks while we await the end of the practice."

"How long is it?" Pat asked him as she followed him to the rear of the cliffs.

"A few hours. One can only fly so long before one becomes tired," he replied. He seated himself on a flat-top stone and groaned. "And it is no less tiring watching them."

Pat sat close beside him and looked Ned over. Beneath his white beard he appeared pale. "Is something wrong?" she asked him.

He leaned against his staff and chuckled. "These old bones are not what they used to be. I imagine this is my last adventure."